Lessons
by AttentionBajoranWorkers
Summary: For AMC's The Terror. Goodsir and Lady Silence share some moments during their language lessons.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Dedicated to my bros over at /ttg/ and that drawfriend who who did that cute pic of Goodsir/Silence.

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Lessons

" _Saipan. Saipan._ "

Harry Goodsir furrowed his brow. The word was easier than some others (trying to pronounce _sanannguagaq_ still gave him nightmares), but the pronounciations of the Inuktitut language still puzzled him. Worse yet was the written form of it. Lady Silence had once scribbled the few letters she knew of her language down for him in his diary and even she seemed amused by both the complexity and simplicity of it. It occured to Goodsir the written letters were foreign even to her, as Captain Crozier had explained to him once.

"It was an Englishman who pretty much created it," he'd said, "ten years ago, was it, Blanky?"

The Icemaster hummed and answered, "More or less. God knows why he came up with all these triangles for letters, but it isn't the worst I've seen. The Esquimaux themselves aren't so used to them yet. I doubt our Lady knows much about writing so no chance of catching a secret letter detailing what is actually going on here."

So Goodsir was left trying to come up with his own system to record Inuktitut. Truthfully, he enjoyed the challenge. It kept his mind busy and lent a sense of normality to his and Lady Silence's meetings.

" _Sapian._ Seven. Good, good," he said, scribbling down the word as best he could. "I think we've had enough for today, Mr. Andrews must be getting peckish and I wouldn't want to keep him away from his dinner."

She couldn't understand him, of course, but she seemed to get the gist of what he'd said. That small smile he'd only ever seen directed towards him fell on her lips and for a fleeting moment Goodsir felt a gentle fluttering in his stomach. His throat suddenly felt dry and he struggled to swallow.

The moment was interrupted by Andrews peeking his head in the doorway. "You needn't worry about me, Doctor Goodsir. It's not too late, but," here he hesitated and glanced up towards the steps leading to the upper deck, "well, it won't do any harm leaving the two of you alone for a while. I can go catch a bite to eat and you can try some more to actually get some info out of the Esqui girl."

It alarmed Goodsir how annoyed he felt by Andrews' last comment. Did he think he was wasting his time trying to actually converce with the woman? He'd realised quickly a hard hand would not get anything out of the quiet, but steely woman and not even Crozier seemed to care much about making her feel welcome amongst their presence. But no need to let this slight against his efforts show to the man.

Smiling, Goodsir thanked Andrews and watched as he climed up the steps, leaving him alone with Silence. He let them moment of relative privacy wash over him. It was never quiet on a ship full of men (not to mention having said ship be stuck in ice which pressed against the wooden structure from every direction, making the vessel constantly groan), but this was as close as he'd get.

"Well, if you're up for it, we can try for a few more words today. Maybe finish up the numbers or clothes, that can be useful as well, " Goodsir said, pushing his spectacles higher up his nose and grabbing his pencil more firmly. Peeking at her, he noticed she seemed oddly... . He couldn't put it into words. Mischievous? He blinked and was curious about this new emotion she'd never even given a hint of having. She suprised him even more by scooting closer to him and leaning over to completely close the sliding door.

He would be lying if that action didn't send a completely unintentional wave of arousal down his body. _Pull yourself together, man,_ he berated himself, _this is certainly not the time for THOSE kind of reactions._ Silence didn't seem to notice anything off about him, which was a relief, but when she leaned back, Goodsir couldn't help noticing how _close_ she was to him. Their knees were barely touching and were covered by layers of clothing, but he still felt the heat from them. Slowly, her hand slid across her lap, inching closer to his own body.

"S-so, um, w-we were going to, what was it now, talk about- " his throat caught as her fingers reached his leg. He'd touched her before and she him, but never like this, never alone. Those fingers climbed higher up his thigh and he suddenly seemed to realise what she had in mind. Eyes widening, Goodsir grasped her hand in his.

Stuttering a bit, he tried to make her see sense. "No! I m-mean, no, it's fine, y-you owe me nothing, this is not necessary."

She just looked at him, raising her eyebrow. He noticed she had lovely eyes, so beautifully almond shaped and dark. Had their faces been this close before? Grabbing her hand must've pulled them closer together. Now she was just in the right distance for...

He didn't have time to let his mind try to catch up with the situation they were in. Closing the distance, Silence pressed her lips against his. For a few seconds, he could only stare at her blankly, his gaze slightly gross-eyed. But finally his brain managed to catch up with what was happening and Goodsir realised he had no idea what to do. Every part of his mind was screaming at him to push her back and apologize for, for, something. But his body was betraying him. Parting his lips, he caught her mouth more firmly to his and let his eyes close. He had thought Esquimaux people did not kiss with their lips, but apparently he (and every polar explorer who'd managed to live and write a book about them) got it wrong. Certainly, she was a tad inexperienced, as evidenced by their teeth clicking and noses pumping together, but it didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter other than this woman's warm mouth.

Finally their lips seperated, only a thin line of spit still keeping them attached, and Goodsir managed to somewhat assess their situation. It was now certain to him she wanted to have intercourse and his mind started working out the logistics of it. The room _was_ small, but they had enough space to lay down. It was cold in here, as it was everywhere else besides right next to the boiler, but perhaps the heat of the moment would be enough to sate them until they could dress again. Was she a virgin? He'd have to be careful then, not too forceful, make sure her body was ready for him. Dear Lord, he could get her pregnant, he'd have to make sure to pull out before the deed was done, though that might prove difficult. And what if Andrews came back too soon, he'd never be able to explain this to Commander Fitzjames (a humorous part of him felt Captain Crozier and Mr. Blanky would be more accepting of the situation).

His mind whirled with all the positives and negatives of their upcoming sexual act that he failed to notice Silence unbuttoning his trousers. Only when her fingers wrapped around his semi-hard penis did he jerk and almost fall off his perch.

"O-oh, Gods, _yes,_ ", Goodsir groaned and let his body go limp against the wall. This was one way of taking charge and he couldn't help but be pleased by that. Her hand hadn't moved yet and looking at her face, he realised despite her gung ho action, she was uncertain how to proceed. A great feeling of fondness washed over him and he placed his right hand on the hand clutching his penis.

"Gently, at first. Or rather, I don't know the word, but let's go slowly. _Sukkaittuq._ " She understood him and slowly and with his encouragement, started stroking her hand up his now almost completely hard cock. Groaning, Goodsir felt almost embarrassed how sensitive he was and how close he already felt to release. She had barely been touching him! Swallowing, he tried to concentrate on anything else. Realising they were still sitting separately, he stopped her hand for a moment and resituated himself on the mattress, pulling her down next to him.

Smiling, he placed her fingers around their original place again. "Much better this way. Much, much better. " Silence just hushed him and said something in Inuktitut he didn't quite catch. Combined with the look she gave him, he presumed he was told to stop talking.

Snuggled to his left side, her right arm working up and down his now almost purple shaft, he let himself be taken over by his base emotions. Raking his eyes over her, he had to admit being disappointed they were still dressed. What he wouldn't give to gaze upon her breasts and let their warmth seep into his hands. Moaning softly, he let his left hand sit on her inner thigh, very close to her private area. Lifting her head at that action, they faced each other and she kissed him again, letting her tongue lick his lips and encouraging him to reciprocate. The sensation of her slick tongue against his made him even harder. All thoughts of anyone interrupting them flew out of his head and all that remained was a desire to mate with this woman – _his_ woman. Maybe it was a reaction to their heated kisses or just instinct, but her hand stopped moving along his shaft and rested near the head of his cock. The tip was leaking precum and when she rubbed her thumb along the slit, his body jerked almost painfully into her hand.

Silence broke their kiss and whispered something in his ear. Any attempt at translation was lost on him.

"What was that? " he managed to groan out, feeling so close to ejaculating.

She seemed to understand his mind was barely functioning, so she simplified herself. " _Angijuq,_ Harry, " she said, looking at him meaningfully. Blinking slowly, he just started at her back. Huffing, she pointed at his penis and stated, with more force, "Goodsir, _Angijuq_! " She let go of him – a loss that was keenly felt – and held her hands apart a great distance.

Blushing, Goodsir suddenly understood her _perfectly_. "Oh. Thank you. _Qujannamiik_. " Satisfied, she took his penis in her hand again and resumed her stroking. The tip of her fingernail grazed the vein situated under his cock and his eyes almost bulged out of his head from the intensity of that sensation. She was masterful at this, he thought. The hand helping her along earlier was laying next to him now, completely unneeded. Instinct and trial-and-error were much better teachers. What pleased him the most was how willing she was to experiment and adapt to new things. As such, when she reached her left hand over to help her along, they moved lower on his body, gently rolling along his scrotum. Needing no further words of instructions, she grasped his ballsack – at first a touch too painfully, which made him let out a hiss of discomfort and her to softly mutter an apology – and massaged them.

It was too much. The previous action combined with her hand on his cock, slick with his precum and learning new tricks by the second pushes him over the edge and he squeezes her closer in his arms and, without a warning yell, promptly comes all over her arm. He could feel Silence startle, but she settles down to watch those white ropes leave the hole she had stroked so erotically just moments before. His entire body is tense, the lower half raised off the mattress and still he cannot ease down from the magnificent high he cannot remember last feeling. But finally, he relaxes and slumps onto her body. Softly cooing at him, Silence rocks him and he feels calm enough to fall asleep then and there.

Goodsir might've dozed off for a few minutes, because when he wakes up he sees Silence curiously examining her hand. He feels himself blushing when he realises it's covered in his semen. He's prepared to offer a handkerchief to clean it up, but is stunned stupid when she brings her hand up to her mouth, sniffs it and licks a long line of his cum off it. He can only stare at her in complete shock. He doubts there is a English woman alive who would do this.

That thought pleases him.

He's yanked out of his musings by Silence laughing. The sound from her is completely new and he hopes it's not a mocking one. But when she stops and smiles lovingly at him, he's relieved. Lifting his hand to her chin, he leans in and gives her a chaste kiss. _Salty,_ he thinks, _but no worse than what we've been eating this trip._ Chuckling, he presses their foreheads together and sits with her.

Later, when they hear Andrews coming back and hastily get decent again – Silence tucking him back inside his trousers and buttoning them up – some traces of guilt start nagging at him. She was still a lady, a woman to be treated respectfully and he had crossed a line he would never have in England. He tries to imagine what he would do if they _were_ in England. Probably marry her, make sure there'd be no doubt of her virtue. Introduce her to his brother first, get some encouragment to face his parents. The meeting would be odd at first of course, she couldn't speak their language, but they'd learn to love her and when their babe came they'd love her even more and-

Snapping out of his daydreams – _when did_ marriage _enter the equation?_ – he puts up a front in front of Andrews and bids farewell to Silence. She only nods at him and Goodsir wonders if she regrets what just happened between them. But when Andrews turns to his perch, momentarily showing his back to them, Silence bites her lip and gives him an alluring little smirk. Relieved, he smiles back and leaves to get some dinner.

Maybe next time they'd manage to take their clothes off.

* * *

Some Inuktitut words I took off a website:

 _Saipan_ \- seven

 _Sanannguagaq - carving_

 _Sukkaittuq - slow_

 _Angijuq - big_

 _Qujannamiik - thank you_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I didn't plan on having a chapter 2, but here it is!

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Harry Goodsir still wasn't used to the the feeling of sharing so little space with so many people. The constant noise and smell (God help him, _the smell_ ) and elbows nudging into ribs when passing by in tight corridors was a part of his everyday life, especially now when they're mostly forced indoors, so to speak, in face of the danger of whatever was lurking out there. And he couldn't even take some men aside and develope true camaraderie with them, as his position on the ship didn't lend to that. Oh, he is well-liked, Harry can see that, especially when put against the sour Dr. Stanley, but still, some lines are not to be overstepped even in this Godforsaken part of the world.

So when he decends the stairs leading to their Esquimaux guest, he finds himself not that suprised to realise she might be the closest thing to that true kinship he'd been looking for. There is a little voice in his head saying she might very well be more than that to him, but he silences it. At least for now.

Today she is being guarded by a Mr. Francis Dunn. He gives Harry a nod in greeting, but doesn't seem otherwise interested in talking to him, which is quite alright in Harry's book. Turning towards the room hosting Silence, he hesitates. Last time he was here, it had been... Well, there weren't enough words in the English language for that, but _wonderful_ would have to do for now. But still, he couldn't help but wonder if he had stepped over a barrier with his behaviour. Silence was under his care, his student, an she probably expected him to not take advantage of her willingness to reveal her culture and thus her being. And that also meant she wasn't in the position to deny his advances of an intimate nature, which was a point that kept bothering him. Was he a cad, completely obsessed with alleviating his pent-up frustrations on being stuck on this ship with her being the only female in sight? Was he unfair to her, asking for this, despite only barely understanding each other? Many a things get lost in translation and he was certain she would not be as forthcoming if she truly understood what she was getting into.

As Harry was ruminating on these thoughts, Silence peeked her head around the door of her little cabin.

"Harry?"

Blushing when he realised he must've been standing around with a blank look on his face for longer than normal, he coughed and moved into Silence's room.

"Good afternoon. I hope I didn't keep you wating for too long. I, err, had some patients earlier and was still thinking of if I gave them the correct order of treatment. You see, the limited supplies here mean we can't afford mistakes in our diagnosis."

Of course she didn't get any of that, but Harry was glad to babble and to her credit, she just looked at him with slight amusement, perhaps taking cues from his nervous stance and reddened cheeks.

Coughing again, Harry sought to change the topic. "So, we, I mean, last time we talked about... ." His mind drew a blank when he realised he really couldn't remember what he had wanted to learn for their next lesson. This wasn't going well, with Dunn just a few steps away and Silence still looking at him knowingly, he could feel himself panicking a bit. The last thing he wanted was to have to quit meeting her, since the thought of kissing her the moment he stepped into the room was too tempting and he truly wanted to learn more about her culture, but he also paled at the thought of the crew, especially Fitzjames and Crozier, finding out what he'd been thinking _and_ doing here.

He was brought back to the present by Silence making a snorting sound and then tugging on his sleeve.

" _Niqi_."

That was a familiar word. Thinking a second, it came to him. _Food_. She was hungry?

"I can ask them to send you some food, but, weren't you fed before?" Harry asked, confused and prematurely getting annoyed by the crew not caring for her well-being. But she kept tugging on his sleeve and pointed towards the door.

"Harry, _niqi_ ," she said more forcefully while jabbing her finger at the door.

His eyes widened. She wasn't asking for food. She wanted him to get rid of Dunn with the promise of a meal. A smile tugged at his lips and he was pleased to have figured out her request. But that smile disappeared when he realised _why_ she wanted the man gone. And suddenly, all of his earlier debates and doubts leaped at the forefront of his mind, even as he walked out and told Dunn to go have lunch, even as he watched the man thank him (and ask his leaving to stay between the two of them) and even when he walked back to Silence who beamed at him in delight.

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he cursed his body. Never before had it betrayed him so. Even their last encounter he remembered having at least some control over himself. He wanted to tell her this couldn't happen, he had too many doubts and he wasn't raised to take advantage of people, it went against everything he knew. But no words left his mouth. They were sitting on her poor excuse of a bed, facing each other. Silence studied him. What was she thinking, Harry wondered. She was eager, it was obvious, but they were of such different cultures and upbringings that he couldn't see how she would be fully aware of why this would be wrong. And did he have the strength to deny her, when they were both lonely and alone? Was this all it meant?

Silence sighed and leaned forward, letting her lips press against his. For a moment Harry wanted to pull back. He had to. Last time was just a mistake, they let themselves get overexcited. But he also knew he couldn't deny her. So when he pressed back and parted his chapped lips, letting her tongue sneak out to wet them, he figured he'd have to battle his demons when they were done.

Still physically sitting apart, they let their lips explore one another. It wasn't ideal, Harry thought, as they were both suffering from the effects of the weather and in his case especially, poor nutrition, which all had the effect of making their skins overly tender. He also didn't want to think about their hygiene, but she didn't seem to mind any of this. Slowly and lazily, they enjoyed this closeness, their noses bumbing against one another and spit passing between them, wetting their chapped lips.

Some moments later, though Harry had lost sense of all time, she raised her hands, wrapped them around him and tugged him closer. How he managed to not stumble was a mystery, but smoothly he positioned himself over her, slowly pushing her onto her back. Finally pressed together, though several layers of clothes still seperated them, he put his left hand behind her neck and lay his right around her waist. Not once had their lips seperated. Laying there, warm in her arms and no one around to bother them, Harry felt at peace. _Perhaps_ , a little part of his mind was saying, _it wasn't too bad to let go? After all, she wasn't a child who couldn't know better and you should be ashamed of thinking that. You never forced her nor did she force you, only gave you encouraging hints. You both want this and if you're careful, no one need know about what is truly going on between the two of you._ It wasn't quite enough to get him to let go of his misgivings, but for now, it would be enough.

Slowly breaking the connection between their lips, Silence gazed at him with her dark eyes, something in them so gentle, but determined. Stroking at the hair on the back of his neck, she seemed to debate telling him something. Waiting patiently – while keeping his ears alert for any noises on the stairs – he watched as she brought her finger to his chest.

"Harry."

She then pressed her hand against her own chest.

"Silna."

Harry could only look at her in amazement. No one knew her name and Silence was always something he had never been fully comfortable using, feeling it was used too mockingly. But now, she had let him know and he realised she would say it to no one else. It was personal, it spoke of her Inuit heritage and he felt honoured she trusted him enough to reveal it.

Pressing his forehead against hers, he gazed into her eyes. "Thank you. _Nakurmiik._ It's beautiful," he stroked her face saying this, wanting to make her understand, "beautiful like you."

It always impressed him how well she could read him. In such a short period of time they had learned to speak with their bodies and faces more than in the words Harry painstakingly wrote into his little diary. She whispered back a thank you of her own, confirming his praise still rang true, and pressed their lips back together with more force. There really was no more to say, he realised, they knew the names that had marked them as unique beings and all else was currently not necessary.

Her hand slid down his body, reaching for the buttons of his breeches. Wanting to take it slow, he stopped her but she shook her head. Glancing at the stairs, she looked back at him meaningfully. _No time_ , it said and Harry had to agree. Dunn would be back soon – or at least Harry hoped he would be, the alternative would mean him showing up now and spoiling everything – and admittedly, they were too wound up to just take their time anyway. Trusting her, he let those fingers deal with the buttons that in good honesty Harry felt he couldn't handle in his current state of arousal. Finally he was freed from his breeches. Her hot hand offered a very comforting contrast to the chilly air. With care, but also a sense of urgency, her hand started stroking his already hard penis, letting the fluid leaking from the tip cover the rest of his manhood. Meanwhile, Harry felt a bit left out. Realistically, due to the lack of time, he couldn't see her bare in front of him as he so wished, but he still hoped to touch her intimately. For a while, the only action in the room was Silna's hand moving up and down over his now very much ready cock while Harry wondered about his options. Finally, she seemed to get annoyed at his indecision and with a quick move, shoved the bottom half of her clothes down.

Automatically, his gaze shifted between her legs. Of course logically he knew she was a beautiful shade of light brown all over, but seeing it for himself in such a private area was completely different. It shouldn't shock him, he was a surgeon after all, but it was still somewhat of a shameful thing to cut open the bodies of ladies so his experiences seeing them bare and getting used to the sight were few. But this wasn't a cold body in front of him, this was warm and certainly soft. His trembling fingers moved closer to the apex of her thighs and finally, pressed against that soft upper thigh. Encouraged by the sigh of pleasure he heard, he pressed harder and watched as she opened herself to him.

He wanted to sing odes to the sight that welcomed him, write an academic paper on it, tell everyone he knew how beautiful the sight of her was, but at the same time, keep it completely to himself. But Silna didn't let him gawk at her for long. Tugging at his body more firmly over hers broke his downward gaze and the next thing he knew, his cock was resting on her slick vulva. She stopped moving and seemed to look at him for further instructions.

"Oh! Well, let me just-" he said, while manouvering between her legs, minding her bottoms that kept him from spreading her legs fully and sliding the head of his cock against her opening. With an experimental and shallow push, Harry broke the final barrier between them.

Silna didn't gasp in pain, as he had expected, but she did tense up. Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth and he knew to wait for her to give him a sign that she was alright. He didn't have to wait long when she, with a gasping breath, wrapped her legs more firmly around him – or as much as she could – and bucked up against him. Relieved that she seemed too unhurt, Harry let himself loose. With an excitement he tried to reel in, he pushed his cock in fully, mindful of any pain she might still feel. When she didn't protest and even wrapped her fingers in his curly hair, peppering kisses over his face, he pulled back and started up a gentle, but deep rhythm. It didn't take long for the only sound in the room to be the slapping of skin against one another, but neither really noticed. The only thing that mattered was Harry's hips moving in an even faster stroke. His hands supported her under her bum, a feeling he very much appreciated, and they were kissing again, letting tongues slide over one another and teeth nip at swollen lips.

He was already close, which didn't suprise him. But while it wasn't something people talked about – at least in polite company, sailors tended to be of a different sort – he also knew women enjoyed sexual intercourse as much as the men and he wanted her to feel as much pleasure as he did. Trying to clear his head enough to remember what to do, he slipped one of his hands between her legs. Silna seemed confused by that and gave him a questioning look.

"Trust me," he said, "I know what I'm doing."

He didn't know _completely_ what he was doing. But when his fingers encountered her clitoris and she gasped, her eyes widening with pleasure, he knew he must've recalled one of those bawdy sailor boasts correctly. Gently rubbing it, he was pleased to see her moaning and starting to thrash around. Hoping this would be enough for her, he sped up his thrusts and closed his eyes.

 _So close, so close._

With one last loud moan she quickly tried to mute with her hand, Silna's body jerked off the bed, lifting his up as well and Harry felt the walls of her vagina grab him tight. Gasping for breath, she stopped the movement of his hips, an action he felt hard to comply with. But through his lust hazy eyes he saw she needed this. So for one breath, he ignored the screaming of his body and watched as she slowly relaxed her muscles and fell limp under him. The hand still in his hair tugged at the curls and leaning closer, he gave her a sweet kiss on the lips. Guessing she was alright now, he resumed his movements and felt that pulling in his scrotum again. A few more pushes, that would be enough. _Just a little more..._

It almost drove him to madness when he heard heavy steps on the stairs.

Gazing at each other in panic, Silna grasped his bum and pushed him as deep inside her as possible while sqeezing the muscles of her vagina. Somehow remaining aware of the man just seconds away from reaching them, Harry managed to bite the insides of his cheeks before ejaculating deep inside her. For a beat they held each other, he trying to keep control of his spasming body, she enjoying the warmth inside her. Then they quickly parted, Harry pulling his still hard manhood out of her and scrambled to get their clothes in order. They just about managed to make themselves presentable when Dunn peeked in.

"All right here, Doctor?" he said. Harry tried to keep his face neutral and also see if the other man noticed anything amiss.

Smiling tightly, Harry answered, "Oh, just fine. We, err, exchanged some very interesting thoughts. My Inuktitut dictionary is growing by the day."

Dunn obviously didn't care much about that nor was he very talkative. Nodding, he went back to his position near the door and left them alone again.

His heart was still beating fast and looking at Silna, he knew from the flush on her face that she must be feeling the effects of their tryst as well. How Dunn didn't notice anything off was beyond him – her face, besides being flushed, showed signs of a well-loved woman. Her lips were swollen and her hair messy. No doubt he didn't look better. Craning his neck outside the door, he got an answer to his question when he saw Dunn squinting when looking for spots of dirt on his boots. Whether it was from the bright snow or alternatively, the dark rooms, the man's eyesight was poor.

Thanking the Lord for this save, Harry turned back to Silna and was suprised when she was closer than he thought. Before he could stop her, she pecked him on the lips.

"Really now," he whispered, trying to sound stern but failing. They were almost caught and she still tried to take risks. But he couldn't be mad, not really. They had shared something precious. Her name, so beautiful and _private,_ made him understand how much she wanted this and how he wasn't forcing her to do anything she didn't wish for. And somehow she'd given him hope they'd one day manage to leave their icy prison. Would she come to England with him? He hoped so, but really couldn't see her amongst the corsets and perfumes that were a part of life as English ladies. Shaking his head, he leaves those thoughts for another time and reaches for his glasses and writing materials.

"Now then, before we were interrupted, you said this very interesting word. Could you please repeat it?"

* * *

Niqi - food

Nakurmiik - thank you


End file.
